


First Aid

by X (A00193347)



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Biting, Desperation, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Minor Injuries, Multi, Other, Porn With Plot, Spanking, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A00193347/pseuds/X
Summary: (Gender neutral) reader offers first aid and a little more to a long time crush
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Kudos: 104





	First Aid

“Hey!” Peli shouts, snapping her fingers to get your attention. You’d been enjoying the slow late afternoon, dozing off on the ground with your back against a piece of rusty scrap metal. “The Mandalorian’s about to dock that piece of junk he calls a ship, look alive!” You scramble to your feet, brushing the dust off of your jumpsuit, glancing at your reflection in the control room window. “oh, gotta look good for your ~boyfriend~” Peli teases, knowing you’ve been quietly harboring a crush on the bounty hunter for about as long as you’ve been her assistant. You blush, realizing how obvious your change in demeanor must be when he’s around. You can’t even get out a witty retort over the deafening sound of the razor crest clattering into the repair station.

You try to appear busy-startled by a loud hiss- and before the ship’s ramp is even fully lowered, Peli is excitedly rushing in, arms extended. She completely ignores the mandalorian, scooping up the child to fawn over him like always. “Have you been behaving yourself? I have some cookies in the break room- how about we get you a snack?” She says, winking at you as she carries the child away through the door beside the control room, leaving you alone with the mandalorian.

You’ve only ever spoken to him professionally, detailing the repairs that need to be done on his ship; but the sun is setting and your shift is coming to an end for the day. This could be your chance to get to know this mysterious masked man a little better. You clear your throat, “it’s getting too late to work on your ship tonight but I’m sure you could use a hot meal after all that time on the road. I’m about to leave for dinner if you wanna join me?”  
~~~~  
You squeeze into a small corner booth in the bustling cantina alongside the mandalorian. A waiter quickly arrives to take your order, you order the usual. “Nothing for me, thanks” the mandalorian says when it’s his turn to order. The thought crosses your mind- why did he even accept your dinner invitation if he had no intention of eating? You start out with awkward small talk “so what should I call you? Mando?” And he replies “Din- you can call me Din.”

Your order arrives and as you eat, he shares dramatic stories of chasing bounties across the galaxy, gesturing and making you laugh. As the night progresses, the two of you slowly move closer together in the booth. You could talk and joke around with him forever, like an old friend. Feeling emboldened by the couple of drinks you’ve downed, you lean in close, tilting your head against his shoulder. He starts to tentatively reach an arm around you when he winces. You quickly shift away “is something wrong?” worrying you’ve overstepped. He explains that he was hit in the chest and shoulder plates of his armor during a shootout the day before and was feeling sore. “You ought to put some ice on it- and we’ve got a first aid kit back at the shop” you offer, breathing a small sigh of relief that it was nothing you did.  
~~~~  
Back in the small galley area of his ship, Din sits on a crate beside the folded out dining table. You trudge up the ramp, carrying an ice pack and a large first aid bag that you drop on the table with a thud. “This ice isn’t gonna help unless you get that armor off,” reaching toward the beskar plates. You look to him for permission and he nods, with a click you remove the shoulder and chest plates, gently placing them on the table beside you. You drag over another crate to sit squarely between the mandalorian’s legs. You lean in, holding the ice pack to his chest. Realizing the ice has no effect through the thick canvas of his shirt, Din pushes your hand away “wait,” he says, reluctantly removing his gloves and pulling his shirt over his head.

You catch yourself staring at his broad, tan chest scattered with scars. He notices you looking but doesn’t seem to mind. A deep bruise is beginning to form, spreading from the upper right side of his chest across his shoulder. You wince just from looking at it- that had to hurt- returning the ice pack to press against his bare skin. At the contact his posture stiffens and he lets out a quiet groan. It could easily be passed off as a reaction to the sudden cold, but the mandalorian knows it’s because he finds you attractive and you’ve been making him laugh for the first time in months and he will admit to himself... it’s been a while since he’s been touched outside of a fight. And he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t thought of a certain assistant mechanic during long nights alone in the cockpit.

You gently move the ice pack to his chest, looking up to the visor of his helmet. After a moment of prolonged eye contact, you close your eyes leaning in only to knock your forehead against his helmet with a metallic thunk. What were you thinking? That had to be the alcohol again. “Hold on,” he says, leaning over to press a series of buttons on the wall. The ramp closes and the lights shut off, plunging the ship into complete darkness. You hear his helmet disengage with a click followed by the sound of metal clattering to the floor. You feel a hand reach around to gently grasp the back of your head as he pulls you in to meet his lips.

After the initial second of shock wears off, you sink into the kiss; placing a hand on the side of his cheek, feeling stubble beneath your palm. The mandalorian’s fingers entwine in your hair, as his other hand snakes around your waist. His kiss quickly becomes more needy, his breathing heavy, his hands roaming and grasping at your body desperately. The solitary life of a bounty hunter can get pretty lonely.

Moving his hands down to your hips, he hoists you into his lap with your legs straddling his own, seemingly forgetting about his injury. He craves your touch so badly it doesn’t matter. You grind your hips, feeling his erection twitch below you. He growls, biting down on your lip, his fingers digging into your skin. He breaks from the kiss momentarily to unfasten your jumpsuit, running his hands over every inch of your exposed chest. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you ever closer, he dives in to kiss up and down your neck frantically, nipping at your collarbone, almost animalistic in his hunger for you.

Without warning, he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. Maintaining his hold on you, he uses one arm to clear the small table, the first aid bag crashing to the floor. He lays you down on your back, easing your jumpsuit off, his lips never leaving your own. He leans over you, his hands gripping your thighs roughly to pull you forward on the table. He releases you from the kiss, panting. You immediately feel two calloused fingers against your lips. You open your mouth, sucking obscenely on his fingers; he moans loudly into the silence of the empty ship, not caring who might hear.

He withdraws his fingers with a wet pop, reaching between your legs to tease your entrance. Your breath hitches as he slowly slides his fingers inside you, allowing a moment to adjust before he begins curling them in just the right spot. You groan, raking your nails down his back, which only spurs him on, his lips crashing against yours fiercely. You moan against his mouth “please Din.” You don’t have to ask twice. He hurries to unfasten his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. Taking himself in his hand, he lines up at your dripping entrance, a low guttural noise emitting from his throat as he eases into you.

You wrap your legs around his waist once again as he lays with his bare chest against yours, panting and savoring the feeling of contact. With one hand tangled in his hair and the other resting at the small of his back, you gently tug at his hair, bringing him back into focus. He kisses you once more, slowly pulling out before quickly slamming back into you. As he thrusts in and out of you, almost in a frenzy of lust, one of his hands wraps around your throat as the other gropes at your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers. His grip on your throat tightens, as his other hand trails down your stomach to grasp your thigh- likely hard enough to bruise. Suddenly he delivers a sharp smack to your ass, causing you to yelp; you feel him smirk against your lips as he gently rubs the stinging skin, only to spank you again.

Lost in a haze of lust, close to the tipping point, you don’t even notice the mandalorian’s kisses becoming sloppier or his thrusts becoming more erratic. He reaches a hand between your legs to stroke you, sending you over the edge. Moaning and writhing below him, your walls contract, dragging him off the cliff with you as he cries out loudly into the night.

As you both come down, he smooths your sweat soaked hair out of your face, kissing you softly. He scoops you up in his arms, feeling his way through the dark to deposit you in his bunk. He steps away for a moment, leaving you lying in the dark until you feel a warm, damp towel against your skin. After cleaning up, he tosses the towel on the floor to deal with in the morning, slips out of his pants, and crawls into his bunk beside you. He curls up against you, nestling his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him. He lazily strokes your skin, occasionally placing a soft kiss to your neck until you begin to snore quietly. A smile plays at the corner of his lips, feeling content in the moment, on the boundary of sleep... but knowing his shoulder is gonna hurt like hell tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> This hasn’t been proofread we’re just out here


End file.
